CYRUS

The scent hit me—honeysuckle, rose.

Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous.

It coiled around me, a siren's call I couldn't ignore.

I inhaled deeply, savoring it.

Craving and fearing the unmistakable perfume of ancient fae blood, lethal and irresistible.

As my brother and I stood near the bar, the sweet scent pierced my core, igniting a fierce hunger that left my mouth dry and muscles coiled tight, ready to strike.

Stone observed the loud space, which was unlike the refined style of our upscale lounges. "Are you sure the plan will work? Will you have enough time for her blood to take effect?"

"The blood will be enough." It had to be. I staunched my misgivings, steadying my voice with quiet authority. She was a half-fae after all and his concern was pliable.

Would her blood hold the potency I needed? The point whispered through my mind, because it couldn't be avoided. Despite that, I pictured the Fae waitress in my mind - her delicate frame, the slender curve of her neck. If her blood failed to deliver, my vengeance could slip away.

"Either way, it's too late to turn back now," Stone said, solemn resignation in his tone.

His words stirred the ruthless resolve that seethed within me. For what Armin did to me and my older brother, Eren, this reckoning was centuries overdue. Neither doubt nor complication would deter me from finally seeing my vengeance through.

A cacophony of shouts and atonal laughter erupted near us. Diners were yelling at what was taking place on the flat screens. Cheap food and spilled beer assaulted my senses. Posters of celebrities who have stopped by since the late 60's decorated the walls.

Adjusting my cuffs, it was as if I was there again, and I recalled the sun blazing hot. I felt the gnawing within me, as if I was six years old and trapped. My older brother, Eren and I huddled together terror-stricken and famished with nowhere else to turn. At the time, my fangs had emerged unbidden, sealing our fate.

The men stalking closer showed us no mercy, even as Eren pleaded with the last of his strength. His words did not appease them, and they raised their sticks beating my brother as he stood between me and them.

Eren always protected me.

But that evening he was no match and they turned on me and inflicted the same blows. Beating me with the wooden sticks as I screamed and begged. Eren struggled to rise, to shield me with his body, until a shadow came black and terrible.

The bashing had suddenly stopped, and the human men were now pleading for their lives. Their cries were cut short, now lifeless bodies on the bloody dirt ground.

In my present, I sought distraction from the serpent of hunger coiling within. The scent of her Fae lineage was sweet oblivion. Which made me wonder - how had the Fae gotten this far in life without encountering predators like myself?

She may not have iridescent eyes that shift colors like opal but her scent was inescapable. Most Fae masked their scent with gems and jewels but this Fae wasn't attempting to hide what she was?

"Well, I did my part…" Stone informed, his gaze roaming the space, not quite disgusted but rather apathetic towards the crude atmosphere and drunken, blustering mortals. "Bar cameras are disabled and around the block outside."

I acknowledged with a curt nod, "Everything is going according to plan."

The bartender slid over our short glasses with two fingers of brandy. "Enjoy," She smiled at us, or should I say Stone, who returned the gesture with a charming half-smile.

A faint blush bloomed on her cheeks at Stone's attention, but it withered when she met my stare. Heart skipping in fear, the color drained from her face. She quickly dropped her gaze and hurried down the bar.

"Jesus," Stone grasped his glass and chided. "You nearly gave her a heart attack with that death glare. Must you always brood? Smile."

Stone's mouth spread into an easy, charming grin. "Like this. Pretend you're pleasant at least." His smile faded as he shook his head at me.

In truth, I was a bastard, and any other day I might have turned on the charm and played with the food. I loved when human anxiety and despair flavored their blood with a dash of guilty pleasure. But tonight called for focus.

"My face muscles work perfectly well and you should be focusing," I warned, catching another inescapable whiff of the Fae's scent in the air once more. "Don't let yourself get distracted by a pretty face tonight."

"I can multitask and you should keep your focus," Stone countered, and walked forward. "You have me on edge everytime you close your eyes and inhale the room as if it's promising untold ecstasy and ruin."

"It's orgasmic," I admitted, following behind my brother. I hadn't realized every time I inhaled the half-Fae's intoxicating aroma, I would close my eyes.

"So is fucking her virgin cunt but either way, you shouldn't get too excited." Stone quipped glancing back at me with a wry grin. "The last thing you need is to draw attention."

I shifted my focus to the lively, rowdy diners, as a group of drunk college guys brushed past us on their way to the bar. Stone took a seat and I sat across from him.

"You're hardly the paragon of self-control," I dryly remarked to Stone. His gaze remained fixed behind me. "Remember that incident at a bar in L.A? In the parking lot you swooped in to defend some random waitress, brought her home and fucked her. The Ogre boyfriend found out and didn't take it lightly," I added with a grin, reminiscing about the past.

Stone's fingers tapped his glass tensely, as the bartender fended off the college guys. His jaw feathered, muscles coiled tight. I could tell it took immense restraint to stay seated when protective instincts were urging him to intervene and play the hero.

"We handled them," He answered, brushing off the memory.

"Barely," I quipped, absently rubbing my shoulder. One of those angry Ogres had grabbed me single-handedly, hoisting me off my feet like I weighed nothing and hurled me across the room. At the time, his massive hand clamping down felt like a vise crushing my bones.

Now there was no pain, just the ghostly echo of pressure. But the memory still made me wince.

Stone smiled faintly, his gaze shifting to me. "You have to admit, that was a wild night. I never expected she was dating a damn ogre."

"She barely reached five feet, while that ogre towered over eight."

"And he was short for his kind."

Stone's gaze drifted behind me again as the waitress' voice rose sharply at the harassment and he finished his drink. He tensed, knuckles whitening as his fingers involuntarily hardened, taking on the craggy texture of weathered stones.

His emerging supernatural features threatened to crack the glass in his viselike grip.

"Stone. The glass," I warned, seeing it start to fracture beneath the pressure.

Without hesitation, Stone reined in his anger and set down the fractured glass. "The only reason that scum still has teeth is because you can't risk the scene it would cause," He said evenly.

I raised an eyebrow, "And they say I'm the one with the temper."

"Always ready to commit acrime, and knock out bars and street cameras, all for the sake of family."

"Your skills are appreciated," I knocked back my drink, finishing the liquor.

My attention drifted to the half-fae waitress passing by. She served tables with a sorrowful air about her. It was her sad, wide eyes and the waves and swirls of her high ponytail. Even the way she smiled at the diners, the gleam didn't meet her eyes. Her stance, and mannerisms as if she was in a constant state of defense. The gentle curve of her neck drew my gaze, a tantalizing promise of the sweetness that flowed beneath her skin.

On the flat screens situated around the bar, the game cut to commercials showcasing celebrity-filled ads.

Stone glanced over his shoulder at the half-fae, and steered the conversation forward. "She's so young and she won't see it coming. All that will unfold on the island, and all that you're going to subject her to..." Stone paused, his tone tinged with sympathy for the Fae woman.

I answered, "She'll learn."

"She'll become codependent on you."

Stone's words hung in the air. Heavy. Ominous

My brother was talking about humans forming a pathological imprinting when a Vampyr feeds from a human repeatedly. Similar to Stockholm Syndrome. If she's feeding many Vampyr's at once, the addiction won't be to one particular Vampyr but to the feed in general.

A reminder of what was at stake. But I couldn't turn back now. Wouldn't. The die was cast. The hunt had begun.

"An unfortunate consequence," I told him.

Stone held my gaze for a long, weighted moment before murmuring in a low voice, "Wer Schmerzen kennt, sollte keine säen." He spoke in his ancestral German tongue, something he only did when I had thoroughly tested his patience.

I raised a questionable eyebrow, "English?"

Rather than translate, Stone simply turned away, dropping the subject and flagged down another waitress, his expression unreadable.

This new waitress halted at our table, her cheerful smile faltering for a moment as she took in our imposing forms. In retrospect, we both had one too many tattoos, height and body mass that most men envied.

Her pulse quickened, revealing her nervousness. But she collected herself quickly, greeting us with practiced charm. "How can I help you handsome fellas tonight?" Her gaze darted between us, lingering on the tattoos exposed on our necks.

Before Stone could answer, I forced my lips into a thin smile and ordered us more drinks.

When she was gone, I said to my brother. "Satisfied?" I asked dryly, before dropping the façade.

Stone cursed and gave an exaggerated shudder, "I just lost a bet."

"What are you talking about?"

"And here I hoped I'd never have to see you play charming again."

"You were betting with Eli?" I called him out, when suddenly Stone's gaze jumped to the rowdy college guys as they headed for the exit. They swaggered past us, cajoling and grabbing at waitresses in crude attempts to bring them along.

As the young men disappeared from my sight and from across the bustling dining room, there was a piercing sound of shattering dishes.

Amidst the noise, my heightened hearing picked up the half-fae's fragile gasp. "It's fine," she assured someone out of view and I didn't need sight to recognize my prey.

There's commotion, and back and forth between the half-fae and someone else too drunk, and pretentious to know when to back off. Suddenly a distinct metallic scent fills the space. My inner demon, starved and straining, reared its head at the siren call of blood.

Nearby, a few patrons voiced their objections. 'Hey man, let the waitress do her job,' one called out.

Inhaling deeply, I felt my fangs stir and threaten to descend. With immense discipline, I held them at bay.

Stone, sitting across from me, couldn't make out the full exchange between my Fae and the drunken fool because he didn't have heightened hearing. However, I know he heard the other diners expressing their concern and the shattering of glass.

Muscles coiled, I stood up and the half-fae all but shouted. "Let go of me!"

That was loud enough for anyone in the bar to hear.

With a smirk, Stone stood and straightened his jacket. "Ah yes, time to defend the helpless damsel like a gallant knight." His voice dripped with derision, knowing my chivalry was only surface deep.

"Shall we?" I asked, gaze fixed ahead. My brother cracked his knuckles in response, and we moved throughout the raucous bar, following my lead and ready to back me up despite his reservations.

Another chimed in, 'Come on dude, we all just want to enjoy our night.'

As we made our way through the crowded aisle, a waitress hurried by us with a broom in hand and the sweet, iron tang intensified, seizing my attention.

Pulse quickening with each step, I steeled my resolve with centuries of discipline. I clenched my jaw and reined in the savage thirst wanting to give in and savor every last drop of her blood.

It was calling to me, as the bar's noise faded.

Closer.

Almost there.

My breaths remained steady, my steps unhurried as I quelled the monster.

"Is there a problem?" I spoke evenly, my voice slicing through the noise.

All eyes were on me. The humans, oblivious to the predator in their midst.

My focus honed in on the wide, green-eyed half-fae, visibly distressed as a drunken frat guy gripped her slender arm. She shrank back, trembling, her pulse fluttering visibly at the base of her throat.

Fresh crimson oozed from a wound on her hand, the scent calling to me—delicious and intoxicating. The way her chest heaved with each panicked breath stirred something primal within me, a hunger that went beyond mere bloodlust.

Control. I needed control.

The monster within raged, demanding release.

Begging for her blood.

No. Not here. Not now.

I clenched my fists and breathed deeply. Focusing and shifted my lethal gaze to the human who dared touch my Fae.